The Apprentice
by Killer D
Summary: The master is a miserable, foolhardy Argonian with a hopeless view on life. The student is an orphan with a big heart and a keen eye for adventure. When their paths cross, their views are shattered and their lives change in ways neither could've imagined.
1. Two Mysterious Children

**_The Apprentice_**

**Readme:** This story may contain references to my other story, Ahnassi's Last Stand, which I submitted way back in April. Obviously, the events of that story happened before the events of this story. Keep in mind that I'm not saying you have to read that story before you read this one, but it might be a good idea.

Also, this is an unfinished story that I started working on not too long ago, after about a nine-month break from I would have finished more before posting it, but I wanted to see what others thought and whether or not you think I should continue. I also want to hear any other thoughts you have on the story, whether it's moving too fast or it's not descriptive enough, etc. You too, flamers. Give me all you got. I'm a perfectionist; I need to know these things!

Thanks in advance for your reviews. Good writing.

_-Killer D-_

    The Story: 80 years ago, Raja-Dee (nickname: Killer D) destroyed the metal monster Akulakhan and forever ended the reign of the devil god Dagoth Ur. House Dagoth, like House Dwemer, disappeared forever without a trace. Raja-Dee fulfilled his destiny in Morrowind and became the Nerevarine. Now, in the present years, all of his friends and family have passed on. The Nerevarine spends most of his time to himself, locked in his manor atop the Odai Plateau. He finds immunity to age an enormous burden, and a curse. And as Raja prepares to give his final farewells to the world a young Dunmer girl travels out of the city of Balmora, seeking aid from the legendary god-hero.

    A quiet rapping was heard on the door.

    Raja-Dee jumped into reality from his dreaded sleep. He was tired, almost as if he had just awoke into another dream. Each of his days was a twisted nightmare full of confusion and passionate longing s for the past. His body would wrap itself in tight coils of pain for days until he eventually gave in. His mind would assault him with bloody images of murder, fictional but believable, and his loved ones were always the victims. Sometimes he would find himself holding the bloody blade. It would weigh more than one could ever imagine, consuming every ounce of energy his muscles had to offer. And cold blood would always stream from the blade coating everything in its path; its handle, the Nerevarine's arm, and eventually the Nerevarine himself.

    Raja ran his fingers over his forehead, examining the liquid that settled on his skin. It was nothing more than a cold sweat. No blood had been spilled, no murder had taken place. It was all just a dream. Raja tightened his throat and responded to the knocking.

    "Who is it?"

    A moment later, he heard the voice of a young, innocent girl. "Only a small child."

    Raja forced a smile as he went to the door. The child sounded so sweet, so trouble-free that he wouldn't dare place his burden on her. He opened the door and found a quiet Dunmer girl, no older than eight, with her hands clasped together behind her back. Her skin was a healthy gray-blue, and her eyes beamed red with excitement. She had thick black hair that flowed smoothly to her neck. She wore an ear-to-ear smile and, beneath that, a dingy brown shirt tucked into a fresh clean skirt.

    "Hello." Raja rasped. "Can I help you?"

    The girl responded with a 'hullo' and said nothing more, only swayed from side to side. Raja waited a while before speaking up again.

    "You've come a long way from town. Surely you've traveled here for a reason."

    The girl nodded silently. Again Raja waited patiently for a response.

    "Well?" He said with growing impatience. The girl looked into his eyes, froze momentarily, then turned and bolted back towards the city. Raja watched in utter confusion as the girl dodged corkbulbs and hurdled over roots, not once looking back. After a few minutes, the Nerevarine shrugged it off and returned to his solitude.

    The next day, there was another quiet knocking on the Nerevarine's door. He was awake this time and quickly went to the door. He opened it and, once again, found the young Dunmer child on his doorstep. He was caught by surprise, but quickly pulled himself together.

    "Oh. Hello again. Is there something I can help you with?"

    Once again, the girl looked at him with pleading eyes.

    "Yes." She peeped.

    "Well, let's hear it!" Raja squatted down to the girl's eye level and perked his ears. The girl looked at him, bit her lower lip, and then ran of without a word. Raja stood and groaned. The kid was playing tricks with him, which he was sure of. He retreated into his mansion, quietly closing the door behind him.

    By the third day, Raja had dragged a comfortable wooden chair to one of the windows near the front of the house, where he had a clear view of his doorstep. He sat intently, tapping his left index finger on a skooma pipe that he had between his lips, his gut telling him the girl was bound to return. Sure enough she appeared from beyond the hilltop, walking quickly, with a look of determination on her face. She hopped up onto his doorstep, and knocked on his door. When he was able to get a closer look at her, he noticed she wore a newer shirt, brand new in fact. It was only a simple traveler's shirt, nothing extravagant. Perhaps she or her parents couldn't afford a finer shirt. Or perhaps she was planning to do some traveling. If she was traveling, it was only unfortunate that she hadn't left today. He sighed and sat back in his chair, watching the girl tap her hands on the wooden door. He remained seated, watching a bead of sweat form on the girl's face. She shifted uncomfortably, then knocked again moments later.

_    So what's it going to be, girl?_ Thought Raja. As if the girl heard his thoughts, she turned and walked off back towards Balmora. Raja sighed, sat back in his chair, and closed his eyes. The girl was going to continue bothering him; he could just tell. He then decided that, later that day, he would go into the city. There were some questions he wanted to ask.

    The streets were flooded that day; flooded with civilians. Flooded with shoppers, flooded with children playing games, flooded with rats picking at discarded waste. Flooded with husbands and their wives, young ones with their friends. Flooded with children and their siblings. Absolutely flooded with people.

    The local clothier was enjoying every moment of the fiasco. One hand was reaching out to the swarm, everyone waving gold coins in the air, while the other hand swam in his desktop coin chest. He held a high smile in the heavenly deluge of gold.

    "Good day, sera!" Called the clothier over the din. Raja replied with a gentle wave. "May I be of service to you? Perhaps a new robe from my most recent shipment?"

    Raja forced his way through the crowd, which began to break apart in his presence. "Yes, a new robe sounds just perfect."

    The clothier smiled and stepped to the side of the counter, revealing half a dozen hanging robes of exquisite beauty.

    "I'll take the gold one in the middle."

    "A fine choice, sera. Anything else I may get for you?"

    The Nerevarine paused.

    "Yes. Yes, there is. I'd like a shirt, my friend. A traveler's shirt, nothing fancy."

    The clothier threw his hands in the air, accidentally spilling much of his gold. The noise became a roar as dozens of patrons threw themselves behind the counter in a frenzied attempt to retrieve the lost money. The clothier quickly shooed them away with a broom. "Forgive me sera, but I sold my last shirt. My last traveler's shirt went yesterday, but I've already sent a request to Caldera for a new shipment. Hey, you!"

    A young Dunmer man made off with a handful of money, and the clothier groaned. "Damn vandals. Anyhow, um, what was I saying?"

    Raja paused again. "You were mentioning to me the person who bought your last shirt."

    The clothier held a confused expression, but it disappeared quickly. "Ah, yes. It was a young girl. Sweet little thing. Her parents weren't with her, but she asked so kindly for a shirt. She wasn't wearing one at the time, so I was more than happy to give it to her."

    Fresh shirt? No parents nearby? Surely this could not be the same girl?

    "I've heard rumors," the clerk continued, lowering his voice substantially, "that the girl has no family. I've seen her around the city for the past several days, I've talked to her many times, she's a fine young girl indeed. Told me she and her parents were going deep into the heart of the Ashlands to live like the Ashlanders do, alone and in solitude, you know. Haven't seen her since. If the rumors I've heard are true...poor girl. Wish I could do something, but I've got problems of my own. What do you think, sera?"

    Raja handed him the necessary gold and draped the robe over his left arm. The clothier looked up at him and cocked his eyebrow.

    "Sera?"

    The Argonian left without answering. He shifted through a river of hands, reaching and stretching for blessings or the simple touch of his cloak. The sky grew dark and gloomy, crying heavy tears that drowned the streets. The ground became wet and muddy, and Rethan manor seemed to sink into the dirt, bound to be forgotten by society.

    When Raja arrived at his home Lliryn, a Dunmer friend of his who also shared one of the houses on Odai Plateau, greeted him.

    "Good evening, Master Raja." Said the Dunmer. "Need any special tools? My prices are the best."

    "Not today, Lliryn."

    Raja walked into his room and hung his new robe in the corner wardrobe, next to a full suit of glass armor. He began to get undressed for the undoubtedly bad sleep he was going to have, but hesitated. Thoughts of the young Dunmer girl, alone and helpless in the wastes of Vvardenfell, plagued his mind. He considered what the clothier had said said. A sweet, innocent girl with no parents, searching for a way to escape the world. Spending your life in solitude; that's no way to live. Perhaps she didn't even mean to be rude. Perhaps she wasn't trying to fool him. But why would she come to his house again and again and run off each time? There were several questions he had for the girl. However, now was not the time to trouble himself with his thoughts. Raja relaxed, pulling the sheets up to his chin and enjoying the overall comfort of his large bed. He forced a yawn and tried to sleep, knowing that he had to conserve his energy for the search that was to commence the next day.

* * *

    Before the moons could rest themselves for the day, and before the sun could greet Odai Plateau with its warm light, Raja-Dee had been up and about preparing for the day's journey. Most of his night had been spent tossing and turning under the covers, waiting for at least a touch of drowsiness to claim his senses. At two in the morning, he gave up hope of falling asleep and took to repairing his glass armor and ebony sword until his arms began to pain him. Several hours later, he had awaken his strongest guar, Corky, and outfitted the animal with traveling bags containing three day's worth of food for two. Many of the early hours of the morning had been spent traveling from Balmora back to Odai Plateau with sacks full of extra provisions and a chitin shortsword for the girl, so she could defend herself if need be. That is, if he ever happened to find her.   
When he finally loaded the last bag of supplies onto Corky's back, Raja slumped onto his bed and suddenly became drowsy. He closed his eyes to let sleep claim him, but he couldn't help but notice a small young boy sitting on a chair in a corner of the room that was layered by shadow. Raja could barely make out the features of the boy, but he noticed the boy was Argonian, between the ages of six and eight, and had a complexion much like the Nerevarine's. His face was battered and bruised with long cuts streaking his skin, and dark with stains of dried blood. The boy was thin and poorly built, and his limbs oozed blood from recently formed cuts, but he had a mischievous grin as if he felt no pain, or as if he was trying very hard to hide the pain. Raja stared into the boy's dark bloodshot eyes, watching the veins pulse, when suddenly the boy put a skooma pipe between his lips and asked in a very croaky voice "who are you?"

    The Nerevarine shifted his weight nervously, not because of the question, but because of the dark atmosphere surrounding the boy.

    "Who are you?" Asked the young Argonian again, louder this time. Raja felt a lump form in his throat, and cringed as it slowly began to choke him.

    "You don't know me, boy?" Asked the elder Argonian. He sat erect with pride. "I am Killer D, the warrior, son. The Nerevarine. Slayer of gods, protector of all Morrowind. I am the greatest hero ever to ever set foot on this island. It would please me if you told me what you're doing here."

    "That's interesting." Said the young one calmly. "You look in the least bit a warrior to me, let alone a god-hero."

    "Surely your eyes deceive you, boy. I am the greatest warrior in Morrowind. Not once have I been defeated. You have heard of my achievements over the devil Dagoth Ur, have you not? Perhaps you've been given some background of my accomplishments over Hircine, or the goddess Almalexia?"

    "Dagoth Ur was a fool, leading you directly to the Heart of Lorkhan while it was undefended. He was better off pointing it out to you on your map. He even dropped his heart ring while fleeing from you." He chuckled and extended his hand from the shadow, letting an object in his palm gleam under the sunlight entering from the window. "Hircine was none wiser. Letting you control your own destiny after you destroyed the frost mammoth Karstaag. He should have killed you in his true form as soon as you entered Huntsman's Hall, when you said you were most vulnerable." Another small object in his hand sparkled in the sunlight. "And Almalexia... Well, let's just say fate happened to smile upon you for the time." A third object fell from his hand and seemed to float in mid-air directly beneath his arm, also reflecting the sunlight. "A true warrior is built through hard work and dedication. A true warrior can channel power from within himself." Turning his arm over, he let the three objects tumble onto the floor. They rolled across the blue carpeting and came to a stop at the Nerevarine's feet. When he picked them up in his hand, he noticed each had a cloudy aura surrounding them. Two enchanted rings and one enchanted amulet.

    "Where did you find these?" Asked Raja. One of the rings was the Ring of the Urshilaku, a gift given to Raja by the Ashkhan of the Urshilaku that pumped added amounts of adrenaline through the bearer's body and helped them run at greater speeds. The other ring was a Fighter Ring given to Raja by his Blades master Caius Cosades, a common ring that gave the bearer extra strength and endurance. The amulet had a rather unpleasant background. It belonged to a mad Bosmer by the name of Gaenor, and brought large amounts of good fortune to the bearer.

    "A warrior does not rely on enchanted rings when his life is on the line," said the young Argonian, not even acknowledging that Raja had asked a question. "When Dagoth Ur had you on the ground in his chambers with his foot on your back and his nails digging into your flesh, you called upon a ring to grant you extra strength so you could throw him off your back and drive a sword through his chest, yet you yourself did nothing. When Hircine appeared in front of you in Huntsman's Hall in the form of a bear, you called upon a ring to grant you extra speed so you could avoid his blows, yet you yourself did nothing. When Almalexia evaded your sword and sliced through your armor with Hopesfire in the dome of Sotha Sil, you called upon an amulet to grant you extra luck so you could evade her attacks and burn her flesh with Trueflame. Yet still, you yourself did nothing. Why is that? I thought you said you were a warrior."

    The Nerevarine hesitated. "Yes, I am a warrior. I just carry enchantments as a reassurance and a last resort."

    "I've seen you fight," replied the young Argonian, putting a sarcastic emphasis on 'fight'. "Summoning daedra with a rusty amulet against a crowd of smugglers when you haven't the nerve to fight them yourself. Frantically chanting words from a scroll when a winged twilight is hastily making its way towards you with the look of death in its eyes. You're afraid on the inside. You show it a lot more than you may think."

    "What do you want me to do? Destroy all of my rings? My amulets? Burn my scrolls?"

    "Yes. That's exactly what I want you to do. I want you to rid yourself of every last enchantment you have. From the large to the small, from those bound to your shield to those bound to the ring on your little finger."

    "Before I do, if I do, answer me this. Why should I listen to a child?"

    The Argonian boy stood from the wooden chair, dripping purple blood into a pool on its wooden frame. Instead of having a mischievous grin, he had a stern look, and as he stepped forward into the sunlight Raja gasped in horror. He was now able to take in every detail of the boy's face, from the sagging skin on his face, to the scar traveling from just beneath his forehead diagonally across his right eye, to the nick on his left ear. The boy was him. He was the boy.

    "How is that possible? Get away from me!"

    The boy tore the cloak off Raja's shoulders, exposing the Argonian's bare flesh and the countless amulets that rested on it. The boy then began ripping amulets from the Nerevarine's neck, throwing them across the room in a haphazard fashion. Then he looked at the ten glittering rings on Raja's fingers, and pulled those off as well. Not since he arrived on Morrowind had Raja felt so cold and bare. Without the constant aura of the enchantments surrounding him, he felt as though a part of his life was missing. There was a hole in him caused by a sense of lost security. Without the magic surrounding him, there was almost a sense of hopelessness.

    "A familiar feeling, isn't it?" Asked the boy. Raja said nothing. He could only gape with his mouth open. "You're the fighter I've always wanted to be. Protecting the innocent and destroying evil. A great hero, known by everyone throughout the land. That was my dream ever since I was five. Eighty years ago, I was delighted to look upon myself and realize I had become the Nerevarine. I had killed a god and freed an entire nation. I was living my greatest fantasy. But look at me now." He cleared his throat and spit a glob of fresh blood on Raja's bare foot. "I've forgotten why I picked up a sword in the first place, to become a great hero. Not to... not to turn up spending the rest of my life isolated from society in a desolate mansion in the middle of nowhere with no one to talk to except for myself, counting my teeth with an inane hope that someday blissful death will overtake me in my sleep!"

    Raja felt long forgotten rage beginning to build up in him, until he could no longer contain himself. He exploded onto his feet, and with one hand grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck. He lifted him until his feet hovered above the ground. "The first thing you must understand is that I am a genuine warrior, and I have never nor will ever place my fate on a shoddy ring or amulet. The second thing you must understand is that the love of my life has passed away only recently, and the reason behind my isolation is the normal cycle of grieving that every being of intellect must undergo at some time in their life. And the third thing you must understand," he brought the boy to the window and smudged his cheek against the glass, "is that I am immune to death, and as long as a sword doesn't pierce this heart I will remain on this Earth, living out my duty as the god and protector of Morrowind. Nothing and no one can change that, not even myself. I won't let you!" He drew his arm back and, with a loud crash that almost seemed to rupture his spine, sent the boy through the second story window. The window shattered into a million tiny glass pieces, each one tearing at the boy's flesh with streaks of purple blood running down their surfaces and glowing in the sunlight. Raja felt thousands of sharp pains coating his entire body, as if he could feel each sharp piece of glass tearing at his own skin. A symphony of chimes followed as each small chunk of glass rebounded off the cold hard floor. Then there was a loud thud.

    Raja was breathing heavily, and buckets of sweat were pouring down his face. After a moment, he heard the sound of footsteps climbing his stairs and two of his servants entered his room. They both stared in shock at the broken glass window.

    "What happened here, sera?" Asked the first. He glanced at Raja's naked form then immediately turned away. "Oh...um...please excuse us, sera."

    Raja hesitated for a second, collecting his thoughts. He looked at the wooden chair in the corner; there was no longer blood on the wooden frame and the area was as bright as any other part of the room. He went over to the window and looked outside; a sack full of guar meat lay on the ground just below. He paused again. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing happened. I just...I'm not feeling to well. I shall be off soon. Leave me."

    The two servants nodded, then hastily made their way out of the room. The Nerevarine sighed, then opened his armoire and began getting dressed, all the while considering what his younger self had said to him. Hearing the boy's words had drained him of energy, and he felt tired enough to sleep, but he didn't bother. Eighty years ago, he made a promise to protect all of Morrowind's inhabitants, no matter how insignificant they were in the eyes of others. Now was not the time to give up on that promise.

    He slipped on the glass cuirass and picked up Trueflame, which was resting in its golden scabbard. The burning blade emitted no heat, and the blaze emitted no light, but Raja knew it was there. The magic that had sustained him through countless fights was there whether he wanted it or not. He sighed and let the massive sword fall to the bottom of the wardrobe. He headed down the stairs and picked up a silver longsword that had been resting in his repair station. A servant noticed his haste and breathed a wish good luck. Raja responded by slamming the door on his way out.


	2. Crying Purple Tears

**_The Apprentice: Chapter II_**

_Crying Purple Tears_

**Author's Note**: Hey everyone. Thanks for all, err, both of your reviews! Daystorm Mage: I don't have a site with any artwork on it, but I was hoping on putting one up in the future. I haven't been able to do much with writing/drawing what with school and all. However, I am planning on finishing this story sometime soon. (Waits for cheers, and crickets start chirping) Heh heh, don't get too excited.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Morrowind, or any ideas associated with the game. I do, however, own the characters in this story that don't appear in the original version of the game. This disclaimer goes for the whole story, not just this chapter, but I'm sure you already guessed that.

* * *

Raja felt a cold twig curl between his toes, but didn't hear the snap that should've sounded with it. He looked on the ground and noticed the twig had already been broken into several smaller pieces. Next to it, the damp ground sank into a small pool of water, no wider than his foot. He turned around, and saw dozens of dulled footprints in the ground, heading in all different directions. They all appeared to be the same small size, and had the long, rounded shape of a Dunmer foot. None appeared to be more recent than the other.

He crouched down next to one of the footprints and scooped a handful of dirt, holding it under his nose and inhaling it.

"Quite a surprise," he sighed. "It smells like dirt." Whether he was talking to himself or Corky, he wasn't sure. He turned around to check on the guar, which had its head cocked at the Argonian for his sudden outburst. Raja stood and held the clump of moist ground near one of the guar's nostrils. "What do you think, Corky?" The creature simply turned its head to the side, staring off into the distance, and Raja groaned. "Useless animal."

The foyada in which they were standing seemed to extend forever in two directions, the ends lost in the hazy sky as if pointing to the heavens. Raja shuddered, cursing the early morning chill, and pulled two gloves over his bare fingers. Normally he would have the golden Dwemer gauntlet Wraithguard hugging his forearm, but he would rather not have to experience another horrible hallucination as he did earlier that morning. He was only disappointed that he would never again be able to engrave his name in his foes with Keening, or crush skulls with the massive hammer Sunder. As much as he disagreed with the Argonian who claimed to be his younger self, the boy did make a very good argument. No self-respecting warrior should have to defend himself with an ancient gauntlet or an old blemished sword.

The temperature seemed to drop another several degrees, and Raja became a bit concerned for the girl's well being. It was bad enough to be a wanderer in the unpredictable Ashlands, but to wander in the Ashlands with nothing more than the shirt off your back was sheer madness. Raja sighed, and took a long cord of rope out of one of the sacks hanging from Corky's back. He tied the rope around the guar's neck and fastened the other end tightly around the trunk of a gray tree. He pulled tightly to make sure neither the rope or the wood gave.

"You wait here, Corky. I shouldn't take long." Raja drew his longsword and treaded softly behind a dense bush. He thrust it down into the ground and there was a loud squeak. When he lifted his sword, there was a large rat impaled on the end of it, which he removed from the blade and placed in front of Corky. The guar purred contentedly as it tore at the rat's flesh with its enormous teeth, all the while Raja watched with envy. "You know, you pack guars don't know how easy you have it." He chuckled while wiping blood off his sword with a ragged cloth.

* * *

The girl shook frostily as she scrambled on her hands and knees to the crest of the next hill. She arrived, wheezing and out of breath, and tried to stand only to fall back down. A cloud of dusty ash exploded into the air from the impact and dried her lungs, making her cough and cry for air. Through her tears, she could see nothing but barren gray wasteland in all directions. There were several animals roaming the wilderness, but none were bigger than she was, and shouldn't prove to be dangerous. If they became hostile, the girl had an idea of the direction she came from, and she could just run back to town. However, she was so close to her objective, she would rather run the entire region than give up and turn back. After all, she had tried that already, and found that it hadn't proved to be the better alternative. She forced herself onto her legs and brushed the dirt off her already ragged clothing.

All of a sudden, a brisk wind ran its fingers through her hair, and the sky became a foul red. Dust and small rocks began to swirl through the air and pelt her skin. The wind picked up until the projectiles were stinging her flesh. Shocked and afraid at the sudden storm, she hastily made her way down the slope of the hill when her foot got caught on the root of a tree and sent her toppling head over heels until she came to an abrupt stop in a large thorn bush.

"Poor girl. Are you alright dear?"

The girl opened her eyes, and the world spun in all different directions. Swirls of colors clouded her vision, but she could barely make out the form of a humanoid creature standing before her. The creature was female, given by her voice. She may have been Nordic by the blur of colors of her face, but the girl wasn't entirely sure. The rest of the body was a mysterious combination of black and luminous green contrasting against the blood red of the ash storm. Though the Nord looked threatening, she didn't sound it.

"I'm okay." The girl replied, as she struggled to free herself from the dagger-like thorns. The Nord extended her hand and helped the girl onto her feet.

"Those thorns are very sharp. You should be more careful."

The girl nodded with her eyes to the ground.

"Are you lost?" Asked the Nord compassionately. "There aren't any towns out here for miles."

"I'm not lost." Said the girl, choking back a sob. The Nord crouched and ran her fingers through the girl's fine hair.

"It's a good thing I found you. Here." She reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a thick slice of cooked meat. "Eat this, it will give you strength. It's from an animal called the wolf that lives on an island north of here called Solstheim. I just came from there myself." The girl quickly examined it then devoured it, savoring the spicy taste. "By the way, my name's Nora. What's yours?"

The girl suddenly became woozy and stumbled over her own feet. She quickly regained her balance and fought to compose herself. "I don't have a name."

"Don't have a name? That's not right. Everybody needs a name, especially a pretty young woman such as yourself."

Tears were blurring the girl's vision, along with the dust flying in the storm. "I don't have a name." She repeated.

"Didn't your parents ever name you?"

"I don't have any parents."

Nora jumped back in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea."

The pair walked several feet in silence.

"I have some more food, if you'd like." The girl nodded, and Nora handed her several large berries. The girl immediately shoved the salty berries into her mouth and chewed them ferociously, letting some of the juice dribble down her chin. "If I may ask, what are you doing out here?"

The girl hesitated. She wasn't too sure herself. "I'm looking for somewhere to live."

Nora chuckled. "Well, you're not going to find too many places out here. Only things out here are wild kagouti, diseased rats, and crazy Ashlanders. Throw in a couple of ash storms every hour and that pretty much sums up the place. There's nothing out here for you. In fact, if you're looking for a home, I have a two-bedroom house in Balmora that I'm not currently sharing with anybody. If you'd like, you can come live with me."

The girl sniffed back her tears and looked into Nora's sympathetic eyes. "You would do that for me?"

"Of course," said Nora with a smile. "You deserve it, you brave girl."

The girl smiled and turned to embrace Nora. "Oh, thank you!"

Nora crouched and threw her arms around the girl. "It's no problem." Suddenly, she grabbed the girl's shoulders and threw her onto the ground. The girl landed with such force that she tumbled several feet across the dirt and crashed the back of her head into a tall boulder. She screamed aloud in pain and felt warm blood ooze down her scalp. Her vision became blurred again, but she could see Nora making her way towards her with a thin green blade in her left hand and a large golden disk in her right. Stricken with fear, the girl struggled to make her way further up the wall but found that she couldn't gather the strength to do so and fell back onto the ground in desperation. Nora spoke, but her voice was distorted and seemed to echo through the girl's head. "Tell me, child. Do you know what a hired assassin is?"

The world began to spin in all different directions. The girl tried to shake her head, but she was so dizzy she couldn't tell whether or not she actually did it. Colors began to dot her vision, and she felt a bubbly liquid seep out of the corners of her mouth. Nora glanced at the girl out of the corner of her eye while unraveling an old parchment.

"Well, an assassin is a murderer, especially one who kills a prominent figure, by surprise attack. A hired assassin, myself, is one who is paid to actually perform the murder or assassination. Now you may be wondering why, if I claim to be a hired assassin, I haven't killed you yet. Well, that slice of meat and those berries I gave you were laced with a very potent, yet very tasty, so I've heard from some of my other victims, poison. I've heard it gives an extra kick to generally bland food. So I hope your last meal was an enjoyable one."

The girl responded with a quiet moan, all that she could manage.

"That's good. Now, do you at least know what a soul gem is?" She held up the gold disk, but the girl could barely keep her eyes open, let alone shake her head. Nora sighed and dropped her head. "Ignorant fool. You know nothing of the land! Had I chosen to spend last night in Ald-Ruhn, I would have found you naked and half-eaten by a nix-hound!" She sighed again. "Oh well. I suppose it's not your fault. Years ago, your father was supposed to teach you the way of the world. He never did live up to his promises, though."

The girl's eyes shot open, and she struggled to ask "what?" but all that came out was another moan.

"Yes girl, I knew your father. Very well, I might add. But that's not important right now, and besides, I don't believe you deserve to know. So, if you don't mind too much, be a dear and let the poison seep through your veins." Nora placed her palm on the girl's forehead and gently pushed it to the ground. The girl was suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of peace, and let her heavy eyelids close. Nora began muttering a spell and stirred the air with her magic. Her voice was calm and collected, a melodramatic song-like mantra that comforted the girl and beckoned her to eternal sleep.

* * *

Raja staggered to the top of a nearby hill, his entire body burning red hot with fatigue. The sensation of exhaustion was something almost entirely new to him. He didn't know if he could stand it any longer. He fell onto his knees, gasping for breath, and surveyed the land beneath him. His eagle-like eyes penetrated the thick storm, taking in every small detail hidden around him. He came across the sight of two women, a Dunmer and a Nord. One was dressed in glass armor, the other wearing nothing but a worn skirt and a soiled shirt. When Raja squinted and studied the Dunmer's features, he learned it was the same girl who had visited his house over the past several days. The Nord was surrounded in a field of magicka and was holding a grand soul gem in her left hand.

_ Battlemage!_ Was Raja's immediate thought. He hastily shuffled down the side of the steep hill, careful not to lose his footing on the tumbling rocks. The Nordic mage had her head tilted back and her eyes closed, whispering the same mysterious hymn over and over again.

"Excuse me," called Raja. However, the Nord didn't respond. Raja put his arm on her shoulder and spun her around, but she remained in her dream-like trance. His focus wandered to her waist where he found an enchanted golden dagger swinging at her side. His eyes grew wide and he jumped up, quickly drawing his longsword. "Assassin!"

The Nord's eyelids flew up, and her eyes rolled from the back of her head. She stood, slowly unsheathing the golden dagger. "Who are you?" She asked ominously. "Answer me!"

"Killer D," answered Raja. "Warrior. Nerevarine. What do you want with the girl?"

"That's none of your damn business, I'm afraid." Her eyes were locked with his. They circled one another for several moments.

"Don't make this difficult," said Raja, as he drew his longsword back. He quickly pivoted in a circle, and swung his sword at the Nord's neck in an effort to decapitate her. Without the Ring of Azura sustaining him, his arms burned with the effort, and the blade traveled at a speed barely fast enough to scratch the glass armor. In a single fluent motion, the assassin crouched beneath the blade and back flipped, keeping her limbs low enough to the earth that she managed to completely avoid the blow. When her hands and feet touched the ground, she straightened herself with a smirk on a face.

"Nerevarine must be a new Fighter's Guild term for apprentice." She said with a snicker. Raja rushed towards her, thrusting his sword forward towards her heart. She quickly recited a spell and a translucent lavender bubble surrounded her, redirecting Raja's blow into empty space. She recited another spell and her skin began to glow blood red.

"Actually, the Nerevarine is the reincarnation of the ancient god-hero lord Nerevar." Raja drew back his arm for another lunge towards her torso. In a flash, she grabbed his wrist with her left hand and placed her right hand upside down on his chest.

"That's interesting," she said nonchalantly. "You look in the least bit a warrior to me, let alone a god-hero." With little effort, she lifted the Argonian's entire form into the air, and threw him several feet into a large shrub of Trauma root, laughing as the enormous barbs tore at the skin on his face. He landed in the middle of the growth with his arms and legs spread out and his head resting on a tangle of thorns. Somehow, beneath his glass armor, the thick brush almost took the form of a mattress. A hard lumpy mattress, but a comfortable one nonetheless. He lost himself in the moment, almost falling victim to the lull of sleep, but he forced his eyes open and began to hack through the thick undergrowth. The Nord was several feet away, continuing her previous mantra, kneeling on one leg with her head tilted back and holding the golden soul gem in her left hand as the girl continued to sleep behind her. As soon as Raja was back on his feet, he bellowed a deep battle cry and rushed forward. The Nord looked from the corner of her eye and reached into a pouch at her waist. As quickly as she turned, she drew a thick iron dagger and flung it straight at Raja's heart. The Argonian barely had time to react, when the tip of the blade cut straight through his armor and pierced his flesh.

Raja cried in pain and fell to the ground, clutching his chest, feeling for a large amulet that would instantly close his wounds. Yet he found nothing.

The Nord approached and jerked the dagger from his chest. She then held the blade above her open mouth, letting the purple blood drip on her tongue. She gave it a quick taste, and then wiped the blade off on nearby foliage. "Hmm. Bitter, with just the least hint of sour. Perhaps not the blood of a god, but indeed one of a warrior."

Raja was still clutching his heart when, suddenly, he remembered the power of Mara's gift, and called upon it to heal his wounds. Also, countless years ago, on his way to slay Dagoth Ur, he came across a mysterious gentleman named Wulf who had given him an old coin. That coin had given him a special power, the Luck of The Emperor, which he had neglected for so long. There was a third power as well, one he had never used unless in dire situations. Hunter's Wind, it was called, a gift given to him by the daedra god Hircine so many years ago.

Raja jumped to his feet, no longer feeling any pain in his chest, and furiously began swinging his sword at the Nord. She jumped back in shock and struggled to avoid his blows. She managed to catch the tip of the blade on her left cheek, leaving a thick trail of blood that traveled from her jawbone to her nose. She gasped at initial shock and felt the wound, and then glared angrily at him and held out her hand to show off an enchanted ring. Then she squatted, almost as if she was going to lunge at Raja, and suddenly disappeared in a flash of gold and white.

"Perhaps I can teach you the essence of speed," he said mockingly to thin air, trying desperately to hide his fear. In response, he felt a gash form down the center of his back, forcing from him a loud yell of pain and surprise. The Nord became solid and grabbed him around his neck from behind, holding the razor edge of her dagger against the Argonian's throat.

"No thank you," she replied calmly, yet somewhat breathless. "I learned from someone who was actually experienced in the profession." She jammed her foot into his right calf, forcing him onto the ground. There was a loud crack and Raja felt a scream form in his esophagus, but all that resulted of it was a loud gasp. She pulled him onto the ground and rolled both of them over until he was laying face down in the dirt and she had her knee on his back. "Are you quite finished?" She fought for air and barely had the breath to ask.

Raja had the strength to do nothing. He relaxed his bruised muscles and let her force his head into the dirt to the point where he was struggling to breath.

"Good. Now, I'm going to need your help on this part. You see, I'm torn between two possible conclusions to this unpleasant encounter. I never got a chance to finish my soul trap spell seeing as how you so rudely interrupted my recital. But, the enchantment on that scroll has yet to run out. I can use it scroll again to take your soul and kill you immediately on the spot. You die, I become the hero. However, on the other hand, I can take my knee off your back and let you live. As payment for my generosity, you shall become my slave for the rest of my natural life, but not before parading through Vivec completely in the nude, carrying a banner of your defeat high above in the air. You lose all of your hard-earned reverence, and still I become the hero. Those are my two proposals. What say you?"

Raja forced his head up and a deep rumble formed in his throat.

"What was that?" Asked the Nord scornfully, trying to regain her breath. Raja opened his mouth and let an earsplitting roar escape his lips. The very earth trembled beneath them, and the storm appeared to switch directions. He set the palms of his hands against the dirt and, with as much strength as he could muster, pushed against the ground until his chest was several inches in the air.

"I am a servant to no one!" He screamed. The Nord fought to keep her balance, and abruptly struck him in the back of his head with her glass bracer. He fell to the ground in an instant, his vision swirling with color, surrounded by a veil of black.

"Fool!" Said the Nord as she clutched her dagger with both hands and brought it high above Raja's head. "Your fate is sealed!"

"No!" Came a small cry. Nora turned in surprise to find the girl rushing towards her with a small iron dagger in her hand. The girl swung with all her might and a scream came from Nora, but before she could swing again, Nora had her by the throat. She yelled a deep yell and, straining her muscles, body slammed the girl into the ground at an incredible speed. The impact forced a cloud of dust into the air and created a thick funnel in the storm. When the dust cleared, the girl was as still as death.

The veil of darkness lifted, and Raja opened his eyes. Before him, the young girl lay as still as stone. She was not even breathing. He rolled onto his back and saw the Nord examining a stump where her ring finger should have been. Blood was pouring out of the gash, and she had her teeth clenched. She noticed his movement and seized her dagger in her left hand, holding it awkwardly. She took a clumsy lunge at Raja, and even though he was still sitting, he managed to lean to the side and avoid her attack. He clutched her arm with his right hand, and with his left, delivered fist after fist squarely at her nose. Blood drowned his knuckles, and after the sixteenth blow, he released the Nord and watched her stagger backwards. Raja called upon the Hunter's Wind to heal him, and stood with ease.

The Nord's entire face was covered in thick red blood. She touched it and examined her fingers with a somewhat startled expression. Then she looked at Raja and ripped an amulet off her chest, calling upon a golden saint to grant her protection. But no matter how many times she chanted the spell, she was left alone to face Raja, who was advancing ever so slowly on her.

"Oh my. Please forgive me. Did I harm you?" Asked Raja with mock sympathy. He rushed forward and thrust his longsword until it found its mark, right in the Nord's ribs. She screamed and clutched her side, falling to the ground in agony.

"Please." She begged, reaching towards the towering Argonian for mercy. Raja stopped only inches in front of her face and, with the most powerful kick he could muster, sent the Nord soaring nearly fifteen feet through the air until she came to a crashing halt at a rock spire pointing into the sky. There was a deep cut in her chin, newly formed by the Argonian's thick claws. Raja loomed above her miserable form, firmly held her by the throat, and slammed her against the rock wall so hard that small pebbles crumbled from the surface and tumbled to the ground.

"Who are you?" Asked Raja. The Nord's head went limp as she tried to play dead. However, her chest continued to rise and fall, and he shook her violently. "WHO ARE YOU? Who is this girl that you were hired to kill?"

The Nord lifted her head and looked into his eyes. Hers were wet with tears, and her lips quivered. Then, her head fell to the side and her breathing ceased. Raja let the dead Nord slump onto the ground, and turned back towards the girl with a sense of defeat. Not once in almost forty years had he killed another human being. To think of the years and the money that young Nordic woman spent training in guild halls, and to accomplish your goals only to have them shattered in a single moment. It reminded him too much of his first years on Morrowind.

The Nord's eyes were now glazed over with death, and Raja had to force himself to draw his own away from the site of her pale face. Glancing at her side, he noticed there was a rolled parchment tucked between her belt and her waist. He quickly snatched it and unrolled it, only to find the majority of the ink washed away with rainwater. The only thing he could make out was the symbol of the Morag Tong stamped on the bottom of the scroll.

Sighing, he let the paper fall onto the ground and made his way back to the prone girl. He could see movement in her chest now, and felt a faint heartbeat. He brought his head close to hers and examined her features, searching her pale face for signs of life in case her heartbeat was actually his own veins throbbing with blood. He ran his scaly fingers through her hair, and she opened her pinkish-white eyes.

"Hi," said Raja with a smile. "Are you okay?"

The girl watched him for several moments, then very weakly shook her head. Raja nodded and fumbled in a pouch. He pulled out a vial of thick, clear liquid, and held it to the girl's lips.

"Drink." He insisted. The girl obliged and let the salty liquid ooze down her throat until the entire vial was empty. She choked on the horrid taste and let some of the liquid dribble down her lips. "You should feel a lot better after this takes effect. In the meantime, I have a house in Maar Gan, where we may rest until you're feeling better."

She stared at him for several moments, then asked "why?"

Raja looked surprised by the question. "Why? " He thought about it for several seconds, wondering himself why he endangered his own life to save a girl he didn't even know. _Was it because I cared for her? But how could I care for her if I've never even met her before?_ "Because I want to know why you've been coming to my house. I want to know why you've been bothering me."

"No," she said. "That's not what I meant. I meant why are you crying?"

Raja cocked his eye. "Crying?"

"Yes. You're crying all over. Your arms, your legs, your stomach. You're crying purple tears."

Raja stared at the girl wide eyed for a few moments. He wiped off some of the blood coating his arms and examined it, then looked back at the girl with the same expression. He couldn't suppress his sudden amusement and erupted into raucous laughter, which made the girl jump. "Girl, there is much for you to learn in this world. Come. Let me carry you. You need to regain your strength."

The girl was slightly hesitant, but nodded silently, and crawled into his waiting arms.


	3. A Warrior Is Born

**_The Apprentice: Chapter III_**

_A Warrior is Born_

Raja stabbed at the thick nix-hound meat with his fork and quickly chewed it, as though he was expecting it to sprout legs and run through the door. He continued to do this for several minutes, too distracted by the succulent meat to notice anything in the background. When he had devoured the meat he moved on to the large goblet set before his plate and chugged its contents. Once the wine had slithered down his throat and settled into his stomach, he stretched and leaned back in his chair with a content growl.

The Andus Tradehouse was much more crowded than usual. The entire bar was a congregation of drunken patrons, each bellowing in laughter or drowning their sorrows in alcohol. Several serving girls hustled their way through the crowded tables balancing enormous plates of food on their heads, all the while struggling to watch their footing. At one moment an entire table had left the room after a large meal, only to be replaced seconds later by an even larger crowd. For almost every person that walked out, two people took their place.

Raja could hear music floating up from downstairs. The melody was rather festive and lifted his heavy sprits, forcing a smile between his lips. He could hear people laughing and cheering, and he could feel the floor bounce with each of their steps. His smile was short-lived, however, as memories of his past returned to haunt him. Memories of his terrible childhood, and of his life in prison. Memories of his first love, Ahnassi, who loved him so much she was willing to die for him, and who he loved so much that he was willing to do more than die for her. The memories came so fast, so sudden. He found his entire life flashing before his eyes, from his horrid youth until now. The same loop of dreams repeated so often, so fast, that the world began to spin around him. The tan clay walls of the restaurant began to change colors and advance on him, steadily coming together, ready to crush him. He saw the door, still and unmoving, only a few feet away, but for some reason he couldn't get himself to stand. The walls began to push against his chest and his back. He could feel his ribcage collapse and his eyes began to squeeze out of his head. He would have died in that dream, had he not heard a little girl's voice calling to him.

"Are you okay?"

Raja forced his eyes open with a start, and glanced at his surroundings. Dozens of people were crowded around the tables, chatting idly and swigging mugs of booze. He could hear the music floating through his head, though there was a different tune this time. He noticed the subtle 'clank' of glass rebounding off of glass, and the scraping of leather shoes against stone. He noticed the hot, stale air and the dark lighting. He shook his head to rid himself of the dream, and looked at the little girl with a smile. "I'm fine." He replied. The girl smiled back and looked down onto her plate, then began to poke and prod at the thick slice of meat in front of her with her eyes down. Raja stared at her for several moments, then sighed. "Not hungry, are you?"

The girl raised her eyes and shook her head.

"I understand," said Raja. He leaned forward. "But I really recommend that you eat something. Just to get your strength back in case that ever happens again."

The girl nodded, but only continued to jab at the meat. Raja sighed and leaned back in his chair, signaling a nearby Dunmer waitress. She turned and set a plate down on an empty corner of the bar, then wiped her hands on her filthy smock and leisurely made her way to the table. "What, s'wit?" She asked with an exasperated sigh, putting her arms on her hips and leaning to one side. Raja glanced at her with his eye cocked and said nothing. "What do you want?" She asked louder. "Speak up or scram."

Raja continued to stare at her. "Excuse me, but do you have the slightest clue who I am?"

The waitress looked him up and down several times, shaking her head. "No, outlander, and I don't really care. But whoever you are, you owe a tab of fifty drakes, so pay the bill or else I will personally notify the guards." She turned and walked away. Raja groaned and faced the girl.

"No respect," he sighed. "No respect at all. You see now what I have to put up with everyday?"

The girl didn't speak. She only continued to play with her food. Raja yawned, and leaned forward on the table.

"So, girl, tell me about yourself. What is your name?"

The girl brought her face closer to her plate, almost burying herself in her food, and mumbled something under her breath. Raja leaned in closer. "What was that?" He asked.

"I don't have a name," she said a little louder. "I never met my parents."

Raja nodded and bit his lip. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?" The girl shook her head. "Then how have you been surviving?"

The girl paused for a moment. "Sometimes the magic people would let me sleep in their beds."

"Magic people?" Asked Raja. "Oh, you mean the mage's guild?"

"Yes," the girl replied. "They were very nice to me. They gave me food when I never had any. A nice man gave me clothes, too, when my old ones were torn. They even told me about you."

_ What would they have to say about me?_ Raja asked himself. "You've been living by yourself for a long time?"

"Yes." Said the girl. "As long as I can remember."

"I see." Said Raja. He paused, taking a moment to stretch, and looked around the room momentarily. For the first time, he noticed he was the only Argonian in the entire room. As a matter of fact, he was the only non-Dunmer in the entire room. However, none seemed to notice. They were either too busy indulging themselves in alcohol or engaged in conversation with the person sitting next to them. When his muscles were relaxed, he leaned back into the table and brought his voice down considerably. "Tell me, girl. Why have you been coming to my house? Why have you been bothering me?"

The girl looked at him with wide eyes and said nothing. Suddenly, she broke out into tears. "I'm sorry," she said. "I wasn't trying to bother you. I wanted to ask you a question, but every time I got nervous and ran away."

Raja paused and looked on with pity. He wasn't entirely sure how to respond. All this time, he thought the girl was playing tricks on him. Perhaps she still was, but the fact that she was still sitting in front of him crying her eyes out told him otherwise. "No, it's my fault," he replied. "I wrongly accused you. I should not have jumped to conclusions the way I did. But now, I'm listening. You may ask me any question you like."

The girl hesitated for some time. She looked into Raja's eyes, and her tears reflected the dim lamps. "Can you teach me how to be a warrior?"

For a moment, Raja had a bewildered look on his face, but a smile suddenly creased his lips. "Is that all?" He asked gleefully, his voice substantially louder. The girl jumped in surprise at his response.

"Well, y-yes," she stammered. "A-as long a-as it's n-not a pro-problem."

"A problem?" Asked Raja in laughter. "You, girl, have the build of a natural warrior! I should be asking you for lessons!" The girl smiled. "But I must ask, what made you come to me? I would've assumed that those idio…those wonderful men and women at the mage's guild would have told you nothing good of me."

"Yes, they told me what you did and how you were ex-expe-expelled," she struggled to pronounce the word, "but they also told me that deep down you were a good person, and that being in your hands is for the best."

"They said that, huh?" Said Raja with a chuckle. "Well, did they tell you what I did besides that?"

"Yes. They told me that you used to be a great hero."

_ Used to be?_ Thought Raja. The girl continued. "They told me that you killed gods, and that's why I came to you. To ask you if you could teach me."

"How to kill gods?" Asked Raja with a laugh.

"No," replied the girl. "How to use a sword."

"Surely, traveling through the wilderness, you've had at least some experience with a blade."

The girl nodded. "A long time ago, I found a dagger lying in the road."

"What kind of dagger?" Asked Raja curiously. "Can I see it?" He put his hand out, palm up, on top of the table. The girl looked at it with a surprised expression, her eyes traveling back and forth between Raja's eyes and his fingers. She clutched the dagger at her side, but held her hand there, unsure whether or not she wanted to unsheathe it. "Please, girl, hand me the dagger. I want to help you. You can trust me."

The girl paused for a moment, then closed her eyes and placed a rusty iron dagger in Raja's waiting hand. The Argonian immediately began inspecting the blade, twisting it in his hand and holding it at odd angles. His eyes quickly scanned the surface and the handle, and after a minute he threw it down with an exasperated sigh. It was nothing more than a plain iron dagger. "This wont do," he said to the girl. "In the morning, we'll get you a new dagger. I know a smithy down the street who can offer us an excellent price."

The girl's eyes beamed with excitement. "So, it's okay? You can train me?"

Raja smiled. "Of course. It will be my pleasure." The girl jumped off her seat with a grin and nearly wrapped her arms around Raja, but hesitated for a moment and drew back in fright.

"It's okay, girl." Said Raja. "I won't hurt you."

The girl paused for a moment, considering, then slowly began to put her arms around Raja. She began to squeeze him very gently as he did the same. The girl began to feel peaceful as she felt Raja's massive form pressing against her, almost like a feeling of comfort and protection. She felt at ease around the enormous Argonian, and as she held her head against his chest she began to cry.

"I won't hurt you." Raja repeated, hearing the girl whimper in his arms. "You need not worry about a bed tonight. You can use mine. I have a bedroll lying around somewhere that I can use."

The girl was quiet for several moments, then spoke. "When can I start my training, sera?"

"Please girl, call me Raja. I don't know any good Dunmer names, though. In the meantime, I shall call you Matsami. Matsami the Apprentice. How do you like that?"

The girl nodded. "I like that."

"Good. Now that we're familiar with one another, I would like a mile from you."

The girl looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Come on, girl!" Said Raja as he rose from his seat. "You want to learn how to become a warrior. A fighter doesn't just use his arms in combat. You must be balanced in all aspects of both physical and mental strength."

Raja went over to the bar and gave the barkeep fifty golden drakes. Matsami stood and followed him to the door, which he had held open for her. Outside, the morning chill made way for the afternoon heat and sparse clouds dotted the azure sky. Raja began to jog and Matsami followed closely. In a matter of seconds, they left behind the city walls along with several curious glances from nearby guards, and picked up their paces. Several times, Matsami caught her skirt on herself and tripped, but Raja was right there to help her up.

"I scaled Red Mountain in full ebony armor," he said. "When you can do that, this part of our training will be over."

Matsami nodded and groaned as she tripped again. However, she rose back onto her feet, clenched her teeth, and ran faster.


End file.
